Rien
by Insomniac Owl
Summary: Those years of submission, of pain and questions and giving in... was it worth it? Sasuke questions whether, after all, if all he had done was worth it. Words whispered in his ears, teasing, taunting, planting seeds... so many consequences.


**Rien**

By Insomniac Owl

-

The wind is twisting itself around him like a cat, and he closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of sakura blossoms. The bark of the tree is rough against his back, pressing patterns into his skin he knows will take a while to fade, but he doesn't mind. When he closes his eyes and stops breathing, it lets him know that something is real. That _he is_ real and that he exists.

A sense of reality, you know?

These past few days have been spent beneath the eyes of an ANBU squad, like a bug beneath a magnifying glass; studied, observed, catalogued. They are coming to kill him. He is after all, a missing-nin. A traitor.

And, knowing they are coming, he waits for them on the grounds of his choosing.

He sighs heavily, plucking a blossom and twirling it. The delicate stem and petals have a beauty all their own, the smooth white petals fanning outward in a perfect spiral. It is amazing how every blossom manages to bloom so perfectly, without flaw.

From his place among the branches of one of the sakura trees where only shadow and blossoms surround him, the air is cool

_against his sweat-streaked skin._

_His body trembles at the sensation of cold hands against his flesh, the sheer contrast of it somehow thrilling, shocking in a horrible way, and he presses his face still deeper into silken pillows, as he is unable to do anything more. The fabric too is damp with sweat, and the air is thick with sex and blood, that manages to be erotic and choking in the same moment._

_Palms press into his back, running along his bare flesh to make him shiver and tremble with suppressed moans. He knows, in the back of his mind, that he goes through the preliminaries for pure enjoyment. He occasionally glimpses a smirk on those lips as they whisper veiled threats and naked promises into his ear, all of which have a way of sending shivers up his spine as they brush past._

_His voice, low and husky, breathes the words into his ears, but he can scarcely understand them because of the tongue that is snaking around his torso. As he speaks, the hands travel up to his neck, smearing sweat and saliva, caressing him with a deceptive gentleness he has come to expect._

_The air is thick with sex and blood._

_A moan passes through his clamped lips and he hears the other chuckle, sees the golden eyes flicker and the mouth smirk. The other's body is lowered, and the breath_

of wind bows through the trees, lifting petals from the branches and dropping them to the ground below. Petals are already strewn across the earth, and they continue to fall in lazy fluttering circles, eventually coming to a gentle rest. The blossom in his hands is stirring too, but he doesn't bother adjusting his grip - the wind is not strong enough to take it from him, just enough to sway his chair, to tease the edges of his cloak.

Wrapping the garment around him a bit tighter, he tilts his head against the trunk in calm repose. If he is honest, he would admit the ANBU squad following him hasn't caught up yet. They hadn't been _that_ far behind, and though they were good, they weren't so wonderful as to have been sneaking up on him for the past ten minutes without his notice.

His eyes narrow slightly at the thought, and in another moment a smirk flits across his face at a shadow across the orchard. It is moving stealthily, with the trained illusiveness only the ANBU know, but he can track it easily as it flits wraith-like through the tree. Fool…

For a moment he entertains the thought that he has come alone, but instantly dismisses it. ANBU shinobi know better that to confront enemy alone, especially in unknown territory, and this one was less fool than most. He'd been tracking Sasuke for nigh two days now, and Sasuke had patiently endured the thought that his every movement would be carefully examined and stored, knowing that when the time came, the ANBU shinobi would trouble him no more.

He has to give him credit though. He was an exceptional tracker to have kept on his trail this long; disentangling several simple ruses and false trails he'd been given.

Sasuke's gaze focuses, and he notices another shadow a few yards behind the first, bobbing through the darkness in an exact mimic of the one before him. Sasuke calmly closes his eyes again, twirling the blossom in his fingers

_That trail down his back, prodding certain spots to make Sasuke hiss. The warm body presses itself to his own, and breath tickles his neck, closely followed by those fingers that carry the chill of the grave within them._

"_Sasuke-kun," his voice purrs, sending electric thrills throughout his body, running down his spine to tighten in his groin. "Are you enjoying yourself? Tell the truth now…"_

_A simple question, and he doesn't know how to answer. His mind is screaming the answer at him, sending it in reverberating echoes that repeat over and over, yet gradually fading as another protest takes its place. The older man's mouth is pressed to his neck, to his curse seal, and his body is shrieking an answer against his mind that is _so _much stronger, and _so _much more insistent._

"_Ah…" He groans softly, eyes fluttering with the sound, and apparently it is answer enough. He hears a gentle chuckle from behind him, and the body rises to splay those fingers over_

the branches at his side, shifting his body on its perch. His legs are neatly folded beneath him, his cloak spread over his knees to dangle into broken shadows. He is staring through those shadows - and cracked eyes - at the three figures moving through the trees, drawing steadily closer.

They still don't know he's watching, though they're not stupid enough to take chances and bolt. They follow procedure, using the element of surprise. After a moment of consideration, he reaches for his katana under the cover of his cloak.

He plays his actions out in his mind as he grasps the hilt, and once he is satisfied with them he sits back and waits, watching each figure with half-closed crimson eyes. He can't hear them though, and he knows there is no pint in trying to. They've been trained too well, and if he wasn't so much better than them, he wouldn't have been able to see them coming.

They're approaching swiftly, using every available cover to hide their advance, and Sasuke shifts, preparing himself. He knows exactly how he wants to do this - quickly and without undue effort.

As the wind rustles through the trees he can finally see their faces, smooth and

_featureless, a dark figure he can't decipher beyond those golden eyes. Sasuke feels him shift, and the ghost of a shiver ripple down his spine._

"_Sasuke-kun…" he whispers teasingly, and Sasuke knows there's more. There's always more. "You can't help yourself, can you? You cannot stand to have anything denied to you, because you're just a child Sasuke… that's all. Look at what you've become to achieve your goal."_

_Slowly, those hands part his legs so far it hurts, the muscles straining nearly to the point of tearing. And inside his head he screams, lashing out with filthy words pouring from his lips like acid, burning destroying, (physical damage), but outside he was already given in, and lets the older man have his way. Because it's just as he says. He has become the plaything of two men now, and he knows it all too well. Both his brother's, and his, doomed to follow every hidden path they lay at his feet. And yet, he has grown under their yoke. He has grown powerful and strong…_

_He's sacrificed so much to get to that…_

_It had better be worth it._

They've seen him.

They've drawn their katanas as well, and one is even so bold as to hurl a few kunai at him. He dodges these without blinking, but then they are upon him. There are three, all expertly trained killers with katanas in their hands. They're known to be unstoppable.

_(Oh god I hope it's worth it.)_

Katanas flash, casting fleeting shafts of light upon the suddenly red petals underfoot.

"Traitor," one hisses. Sasuke doesn't flinch, though for an instant he pauses. True shinobi conceal their feelings, he notes calmly. A nondescript nobody on the task of hunting him would not-

The offered chance is taken and a katana is thrust forward. He means to kill - the blade is aiming for Sasuke's heart and he knows the shinobi before him is aware of it.

The trees behind him are perfect and beautiful, the petals still falling with entrancing slowness that is reminiscent of snow.

They are abruptly painted with crimson blood.

It drips, slowly,

_coursing gently down his fingers, clear and salty-sweet. And he counts each thrust as if it were beats of a song, of a drum, regular, penetrating…_

_A detached observer crying out._

_(I've sacrificed too much… Oh god let it be worth it.)_

_Hands clench over nothing, nail polish black and chipped digging into his skin. No escape, no freedom. Bite your tongue and take it. _

_again._

_and again._

_(Oh god please…)_

_Again._

_AGAIN._

_AGAIN!_

_And he collapses, panting, atop him. Satiated._

It lands with a slapping sound and drips with lethargic slowness, the glistening red liquid reflecting moonlight among the ridges of the bark. The significance of death in a place like this is somehow beautiful, he thinks, though he cannot quite explain how or why.

Their eyes meet as the shinobi falls, and there is a moment of sickening nausea when Sasuke saw that they were a clear cerulean blue. But he says nothing, and they are both silent as the other slides to the ground, blood spilling freely from his chest. Their eyes remain locked, unwavering, even as the shinobi slips away, face pale and eyes open. And in the silence that follows Sasuke kneels and removes the mask, hoping desperately it wasn't who he thought is was.

But the cerulean blue eyes had spoken the truth. They are wide and glassy in death, but for a moment he imagines they are filled with a spark of life, blazing with an anger far too personal to be strange.

_(Is it worth it? Now, right now, is it worth it?)_

He stands abruptly, leaving the bodies still and drenched in red, and he goes on his way, tugging his cloak about him once more. The crimson clouds embroidered into it match the blood.

_The flesh slips away, the breath removes itself from his neck, and he is left alone._

And as he melts into the darkness, a single drop of blood falls from the blue-eyed shinobi's fingertips. It lands perfectly in the curved white bowl of a sakura petal, where it remains, undisturbed.

_(What hath thou wrought?)_

_All alone…_

**finis**


End file.
